The Superhero's Redemption
by schaefy
Summary: Sequel to It's all not True. It's been two months and Steph and Ranger still haven't talked. Can they ever be the same? And what are Morelli and Joyce doing at the bonds office together? Tune in next time folks! Language Adult themes. Schaefy :D
1. Chapter 1

Author's Note:

Hi everybody! I said there would be a sequel to "It's all not True" so here it is! For those who haven't read it – it's a good idea to read "It's all not True" before you read this one. Thanks and PLEASE REVIEW!

Schaefy

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Ranger's POV

I smiled as I watched her enter her apartment building. She was just beginning the ride of her life and she didn't even know it. I chuckled again and pulled out from the alley across the street where I had been watching and sped away into the dusk.

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Steph's POV

_That Morning_

My eyes flicked open to the first of the sun's ray's this morning shining through my bedroom window. I smiled slightly at the serenity, then turned over, trying to see who was in my bed. No one of course. My smile faded as I hugged my arms to my body. No one had shared it for two months although a few sleazebags had tried, none had succeeded. Not since I last left his apartment.

Contact had been minimal since then, both physically and socially. He had avoided coming into the office as much as possible while I no longer called for his help with FTA's, car problems and protection. Not that I had needed any if those of late. But we were both miserable, he because he messed things up so badly and me because I was convinced he didn't love me. Deep down I guess I knew he did but I wasn't sure if I was ready for rejection again. The last time I had put myself in that position I got hurt and I wasn't eager to repeat the experience.

My life has gotten into a pretty repetitive pattern lately. I would wake up at seven thirty in the mornings and wonder why I bothered to get out of bed in the mornings. Then get up and go for a half hour run, adamantly refusing to believe that I only did it because it reminded me of Ranger. When I got back I'd shower, skip breakfast and head for the bonds office where I would slouch on Connie's desk getting grilled on what had happened with Ranger. When it all became too much I would sneak out to cry in the alley a few shops down from Vinnie's, then half heartedly try to bring in FTA's. Sometimes I would have lunch or dinner with my parent's where my mother would spend the entire meal trying to convince me to go back to Morelli, and grandma would wonder how I could turn down "Mr. Ranger's excellent package". After that I would either go home and be miserable or sit on Trenton Bridge for a while, watching life go by.

Today, it was not to be though. Today would be different. I had realised last night as I sat on the bridge that for the past two months I had been trying hard not to forget Ranger in the hope he might come back to me. Maybe today was the day I could get over him. Try to be optimistic. Give up moping around. I plastered a fake grin on my face and forced myself to be happy. I felt my mood instantly lift a little. Hey, maybe the whole "the cup is half full" thing isn't so bad I told myself. I rolled my eyes but kept grinning, genuinely this time, and rolled out of bed. Whatever.

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I arrived at the bond's office at nine thirty to find Lula and Connie scoffing donuts and coffee, feet propped on Connie's desk. They both stopped mid-chew and stared as I walked through the door, smiling.

"Shit girl, what happened to you? You take grass or summing? You haven't smiled in weeks?!" Lula said, still staring.

I rolled my eyes. "Of course I didn't do grass! I-"

"Ok, not drugs," Connie interrupted, a mischievous look in her eye "I know, I got it. You got laid. You have the 'aid' look about you. Who did the deed? Morelli or…?"

Connie and Lula started grinning and giggling to each other.

"Fifty bucks! Pay up Connie!" Lula said through snorts of laughter.

What. "You had a bet on me?" I said faintly.

"Sure white girl; hell, everyone has a bet one you. We figured we couldn't miss out on the fun. I said within two months you'd be back in Batman's bed. Fifty bucks."

Connie grudgingly opened her bag and extracted a fifty.

"I didn't sleep with anyone! Shit guys.." I yelled

Connie and Lula looked up at me, aghast, just as Connie was handing over the money. She snatched it back hurriedly, stuffing it back into her purse. Not wanting anymore conversation on the topic I took advantage of the momentary shocked silence.

"Any new FTA's?"

Connie was the first to recover, pulling a couple of files from the depths of the desk.

"Drunk and disorderly, raping arsonist or hit and run?"

"Give the arsonist to Ranger, I'll take the other two."

I was just flicking through the files Connie had handed to me when the door opened behind me. I looked up to see Joyce Barnhardt standing in the doorway, still dressed as Dominatrix Barbie, except this time with motorcycle leathers over her shirt and a helmet under her arm. My eyes narrowed dangerously. Hang on a second… I recognise the helmet! It belonged to… Joyce leered at me as she nodded. Then she held up the helmet so we could see the name engraved on the back in silver writing. There were two sharp breaths as Connie and Lula read it then looked at the Ducati and the man astride it, waiting outside. Anger boiled inside me, the flames of betrayal growing stronger every second.

My fists clenched angrily.

Morelli.


	2. Chapter 2

Author's Note: Lo, I love writing this story so I figured I'd post another chapter for you. Enjoy and REVIEW! Course Language + Adult themes etc.. you know the drill.

Schaefy

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She was still standing there in Morelli's gear, smiling at the shock, anger and betrayal written all over my face. Connie's tentative voice broke the icy silence.

"Steph... it might not mean they…"

I stayed stock still, staring at Barnhardt. Morelli had disappeared off the bike into one of the surrounding shops. Slowly I started walking forward, towards Joyce, letting the files I had in my hand drop. I was emanating waves of anger so intense that I was surprised everything around me didn't go up in flames. My hand inched closer to the lump in the material in the small of my back. I was only a couple of metres away when Joyce's smile started to falter. This caused the edges of mine to tip slightly. She was scared shitless. Step… Step… Step. Fear and uncertainty crept into her eyes. I was inches away from her now, my face so close I could feel her breath on my skin. I was still cool and collected, my anger boiling so hard it forced me into a deceptive calm making me all the more dangerous.

I took a slow breath. "Ahhh… Scared are we. No big bad cop to save you from naughty Stephie here. Just you and me now." I hissed in her ear so quietly she strained to hear me. I began walking around her slowly, her scared eyes following mine until I disappeared behind her. She jumped slightly as I cocked the gun at the nape of her neck.

"Now you're going to walk slowly outside and maybe I won't shoot you. And you can also tell Morelli to go fuck himself. Wouldn't want him to get any ideas about what happened would we?" She shook her head slightly, wide eyed.

"Good. Off you go then. And I don't think anybody else needs to know about this do you? Just our little secret." My voice was low and threatening, venom lacing every word I hissed in her ear. She just swallowed and nodded again. I nudged her with the gun and she walked outside slowly but calmly, the straddled the bike behind Morelli and took off. I gave her a sarcastic finger wave as she took one last look at me, and smiled. Skanky bitch. Connie and Lula were still staring at me as I turned round and rammed my gun back into my jeans.

" I've changed my mind, give me the arsonist. I need to kick some serious ass today."

Connie was still staring at me as she silently handed me a third file. I bent down and picked up the files on the floor, then raised an eyebrow at the two of them, still dumbstruck.

"What?"

"That was bloody awesome…" Connie said breathlessly, a slow smile spreading over her face.

"Fuckin' A" yelled Lula as she began to roar with laughter, quickly joined in by an amazed Connie. Take that Barn-'ho!


	3. Chapter 3

Half an hour later I left the Bond's Office after many high fives and recounts of the scene. Every time I thought of Barnhardt's face I cracked up with glee. One point to me!

When the euphoria of getting Joyce so badly wore off, I began to think of other things though. I tried not to think of Joe and Joyce too much. I knew most likely they were playing hide-the-salami in Morelli's bed because Joyce wanted to hit me where it hurt. At first I had felt betrayed that he could be so low as to do it with my arch nemesis. But then I guess we had broken up. He could fuck whoever he wanted. God damn him to hell, he could eat shit for all I care. I just couldn't imagine why anyone would want to fuck Joyce.

I sighed and angled into my eighteen year old red Honda Civic and pulled out of the street, heading towards the other side of the Burg and one raping arsonist named Harlan Miller. Miller lived in an apartment on Fleet and third, was twenty four years old and had Betty Boop tattooed to his forehead. Real subtle man.

I parked a couple of buildings down and called his home number.

"Hello?"

Peachy. He was home. I hung up without answering, grabbed my bag and got out of the car. Not wanting to give up on the whole healthy thing I took the stairs. Needless to say by the time I got to the sixth floor I had pretty much lost my breath. Understatement of the century.

I stumbled over to apartment 6a and knocked on the door, making sure my pepper spray, cuffs and gun were all within easy reach. A second later the door banged open to a swaying Miller, his bloodshot eyes fixing on me. He leered, leaning heavily on the door for support. What do you know. He was drunk as a skunk.

"Yeah.."

"Hello Mr Miller I'm Stephanie Plum and I work for your Bond's Agency. You missed your court date so you need to come downtown and … umm…"

I couldn't stop looking at stupid Boop tatt.

"Your real pretty you know. So's Betty. Betty's pretty too."

He grabbed me and pulled me close, the stench of alcohol surrounding him. My arms were pinned to my sides, his hands roaming everywhere as I tried to get him off me. I started to push him away, but he just grabbed me where it hurts and squeezed until I cried out.

"You wanna come in and make old Harlan happy? Maybe I could show you where else Betty is. She makes me happy too."

He pulled me inside and slammed the door shut, then started undoing his belt buckle. Before I could draw breath he was holding himself, getting his fingers into the rhythm. I stood there just staring at the tattoo above it. Betty was sitting on Mr Happy. Naked. I shuddered and just stared for a second. Then came to my senses. Miller was still feeling himself, and as he looked up at me, I got my chance. In one fluid movement I whipped out my stun gun and stunned him on the gonads.

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Lula was still breathless with laughter after I told her the story for the umpteenth time.

"You… in the…" She yelped between peals of uncontrollable laughter. I grinned and picked out another slice of pizza from Connie's desk.

"I mean… this is the stuff of legends!"

Ok, that was a little farfetched. I raised an eyebrow.

"Alright, alright so maybe not just yet. Your granny is gonna love this."

I blanched. Oh my God. Grandma would die of laughter. My mother would disown me. I'd never have another peaceful moment. Oh brother. I rolled my eyes and stood to leave. Lula jumped up grabbing her bag.

"I ain't missing out on anymore history making after that one!"

Oh boy. I'm never going to live it down. This one might even top the funeral parlour incident… Hmm, something to look forward to.

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The other two skips came in relatively easily - I only had to fire three warning shots for the rest of the day. I pulled into the street outside Vinnie's and got out of the car as Lula extricated herself out as well. She was disappointed at the lack of legend making though.

"Can I shoot out your gas tank and make the car explode at _least_?"

"NO! That's a _new car_. Besides that's only a myth, it only works in movies."

Lula pulled out her 9mm Glock and pointed it at the car.

"Myth ey?"

I paled and lunged at the gun, pulling it away from the car as it discharged five rounds. Fuck. Lula screamed and as I looked down I saw a tear in my jeans the length of my thigh, blood rapidly soaking through and drenching it. Minor flesh wound. Hurt like a bitch though.

Blood continued to seep through the cloth as Lula continued screaming hysterically, her words incoherent as she pointed at my leg. I was surprisingly calm. Hell, I'd done this so many times that I'd gotten to know some of the 911 operators closely. Connie came running out of the office dialling her cell phone while I sat down on the curb and tried to explain to a still screaming Lula that I was perfectly fine. Finally I rolled my eyes, pulled out my gun and took a random shot at the sky. So much for only three shots…


	4. Chapter 4

Author's Note: Hi everybody! Thanks for the great reception to the previous chapters – I loved reading your reviews! Special thanks to Shesgothighhopes, Stephannie1014 and Vicki Acklin – You guys review all my stuff thanks so much! Anyway, enjoy the next chapter,

Schaefy

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An hour later I was all stitched up and Tank had taken Lula home after she spent half an hour being hysterical into his chest in the middle of the hospital waiting room. For some reason she kept thinking I was going to die. Go figure.

I met Lester in the lot outside St Francis and he kissed my cheek then handed me my keys and bag.

"You alright Bomber? Pretty full on day huh? Stunning Miller in the gonads, threatening Barnhardt at gunpoint and getting shot. I don't know how you fit it all in Steph?!"

I grinned back and batted my eyelashes.

"I try!"

He grinned wider, hugged me and walked off to the SUV waiting behind my beat up Civic. Lester was a great guy.

The ride home to my apartment was quiet, for lack of traffic and tinny music from the broken down radio. I needed thinking time. Today had been a pretty good day. I pulled into my lot as dusk was falling, the pleasantly warm air lifting my hair in a light wind. I strode into my building, feeling calmly optimistic. No, Today had been a damn good day.

I unlocked the door to my apartment, dumped my bag in the table and said hello to Rex. There was movement under the wood shavings and Rex emerged, whiskers twitching for a second, then ducked back into his soup can. Social may be a slight overstatement.

I set about making myself a piece of toast for dinner, and as I got the bread out, something that had been niggling the back of my mind surfaced. Hang on, something was different here. I put the bread back on the counter and saw it. Lying on the table next to my bag was a small white box with a silver ribbon tied around it. Tucked beneath the ribbon was a note written on silver paper. "Babe" was printed on the front.

Oh boy.

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I grabbed the note and flipped it open.

"Babe, I'm so sorry. Please let me make it up to you.

Ranger."

Man of few words wrote short notes too. I wasn't sure if I wanted this to happen though. I knew I needed him more than anything else in the world. But I wasn't sure if I could so readily trust him this time. What if he did it again?

I dropped the note on the table and turned to the box still lying next to my bag. I pulled off the ribbon and gently lifted the lid. I gasped slightly. Inside lay two tiny bottles of liquid lying side by side. One I recognised as Bulgari green, and another white bottle. I opened it with trembling fingers. The soft smell of Jasmine and summer flowers drifted from the bottle which I recognised. I had borrowed a scent like this from Ella on a distraction job once and fallen in love with it. Obviously Ranger had noticed. I gently closed the cap and replaced the bottle on its' niche in the black silk lining.

Then I realised. The bottles fitted together perfectly to make a tiny heart shape. Me and him. Flowers and Bulgari.

"Oh Ranger…"

My heart swelled with hope. Was he coming back? Did he… love me? I leaned back against the counter still staring at the tiny heart lying on the black silk. Then I saw tiny words engraved across the heart.

"Ranger and Steph forever"

Oh shit.

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That night as soon as I dropped exhaustedly into bed my mind cranked up. What did this mean? Was he saying 'sorry' or 'I want us to be together' or 'just friends' or what? In some ways it raised more questions than it answered. I rolled over onto my back. The only thing I knew was that he wanted to … talk? Oh shit, those talks never ended well.

I felt lost and confused lying there as the hours passed, tossing and turning, trying to understand what had happened. I was lying in my thinking position when a quiet voice spoke from behind me.

"Can't sleep Babe?" I jumped so violently that I accidentally rolled off the bed and hit the floor with a thump.

"Fuck Ranger you scared the bejeezus outta me."

A smile tugged at his slips as he looked down at me sprawled on the floor. Then he crouched down and gathered me into his arms, and pulled me up again. He pulled me close, hugging me tightly, just savouring our closeness.

"I missed you so much Babe." He whispered into my ear as he played with a strand of my hair. His voice was soft and low, betraying the emotion in his heart. He wanted to be with me so badly; it was costing him every second of the day. I sank into him after a moment, breathing in the soft scent that lingered around him.

Suddenly, I felt close to tears. He came back. He loved me so much he came back for me. We just stood there, listening to each others breathing. I loved him. I knew it there and then. I loved him. I ran my hand through his hair and he growled from deep in his chest, his hands stroking my hair. I was still curious though.

After a while I spoke.

"Ranger, why-"

"Not now Babe. Later we'll talk. Did you like the present?"

"It was beautiful."

He tipped my chin towards him and kissed me lightly, his hands splaying on my back as he pulled me closer. I felt more relaxed than I had in months just lying there in his arms, enveloped in his scent. The strong arms which grasped me seemed to defend me from the world. I felt safe. All my troubles seemed to melt away as I stood in his arms, my breathing slowed and as his fingers gently massaged my back, tension released I didn't know I'd had. He sat down on the bed then pulled me down as well so I was snuggled next to him, head tucked under his chin. His shirt magically melted away so I put my arm across his lean chest and he gave a deep moan of pleasure. My breathing became slow and even and I was only vaguely aware that suddenly it was very cold, and I was alone in bed.

"Babe, I have to work."

And he was gone.

What?

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Author's Note.. Again.

I dunno, I wasn't happy with the way this chapter worked out.. It just wasn't portraying the emotions I wanted. Anyways, suggestions for improvement would be welcomed. I'll probably end up rewriting it anyway.

Schaefy


	5. Chapter 5

Author's Note: Lo everyone. Just to let you know I rewrote the end paragraph of chapter four coz it just wasn't quite right but it's not imperative that you read it – it doesn't change anything, just makes it a bit more believable. Anyway, I loved writing this chapter (although I had to do a bit of research on undesirables) so I hope you enjoy it. Tell me if the explanation at the end doesn't make sense, but hopefully it should be ok. Thanks and REVIEW as always!

Schaefy

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I awoke the next morning feeling as confused as the night before. Why did this have to be so confusing? Why couldn't he just tell me what was going on?

I stumbled out of bed and out the door for a walk instead of a run to spare my stitches; then showered, wishing I had a full bottle of the flowery scent to use instead. I dropped a couple of cheerios into Rex's food bowl and snagged a bagel for the road.

I still felt pretty kick ass from yesterdays butt kicking in my jeans, flannel shirt and CAT boots so I opened my cookie jar to extract my gun and extra bullets. Hold the show.

Lying on top of my gun was another note written on silver paper, with what I thought was a thin strip of leather tied onto a hole in the side.

I pulled out the note.

"For Wonder woman. Go get 'em Tiger.

Batman."

I pulled on the leather and smiled. It wasn't just a strip as I had supposed; it was a necklace. And hanging on the end was a very small silver pendant in the shape of the Batman symbol. Tiny words were engraved on the front. "Batman and Wonder Woman". I grinned. Now _that_ was kick ass.

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I went around wearing it for the next few days, tucking it under my shirt so Connie and Lula wouldn't guess what was going on. Thank god, for between guessing who Vinnie was doing a nooner with and comparing rumours about Joe and Joyce, they were getting pretty damn close to the truth.

Three days later I grabbed an unusually large stack of files off Connie's desk and began to flick through the top one. Chris Meyer, forty three, charged with possession of stolen property, possession of restricted weapons and possession of dangerous weapons. She-it. Looked like he'd had enough stashed to power the entire freaking army. Connie Lula both became still and drew breath. I felt a presence behind me and a hand resting on my shoulder.

"You want to be careful with him Babe. Rumour has it the Police only got their hands on a third of the stash. Don't take any chances."

Still facing away from him I pulled out my gun from the waist band of my jeans, pointed it at the ceiling and cocked it.

"Got it covered Batman."

I heard him chuckle, then the hand on my shoulder turned me around. He was decked out in SWAT gear, from the latest and greatest Kevlar, full combat gun belt, leg armour and the sweaty mess of hair that only riot helmets can give you. All that was missing was the riot shield and an Uzi. He lifted a long finger and flicked out the pendant from under my shirt.

"Suits you."

I grinned back, fire shooting south. Crap, not in front of the girls. He dropped a body receipt onto Connie's desk and grinned at me as he turned to leave.

"See ya Wonder woman." He muttered to me as he walked out the door. I just stood there observing as he walked over to the SUV waiting on the street. Man his ass is fine.

"Sure is." Said Lula.

I said that out loud?

"Yup."

…Crap

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I decided that as I was in need of groceries and next months rent money, high bonds were first on the list. Crap. That meant Chris Meyer, weapons hoarder. Oh joy.

"Coming Lula? I'm going to shoot for Chris Meyer."

"Sure am. Even if I did shoot you. Hey, I thought the safety was on right? I mean, everyone does that sometimes right?"

Connie and I rolled out eyes at each other. But not everyone shoots their best friend in the leg.

"We'll have to go in you car though. The Firebird is getting spinners at the moment. Sure sucks though, I really need Dolby at the moment."

Oh brother.

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Lula and I rolled across town to McKenny road in Hamilton Township, in search of Chris Meyer's humble abode. Probably pointless seeing as he was a fifth time offender to check his house but I figured you never know, he might need a clean pair of tighty-whiteys. No stone unturned you know?

I pulled up across the street and checked his house out. Man was it humble. It was a smaller, emptier and filthier version of a Burg House – small veranda, kitchen, living room, bedroom and bathroom. From the front I could see that furniture was pretty sparse. Guess that's what happens when Trenton PD finds out you've been skimming the army of weapons. They clean you out.

"What a dump." said Lula, a disgusted look on her face. That just about summed it up in my opinion.

The paint was peeling off the walls, the front screen door was hanging off its hinges and several windows had been smashed. A disgrace to the Burg standards.

But now I needed to lay down the rules. I didn't want to get shot again. Once a week is enough thanks very much.

"Ok. No shooting, breaking down doors, breaking and entering, threatening, unnecessary incarceration and residence in the trunk of the car or random destruction of property and or skip."

"Gee, more rules than usual."

No shit, Sherlock.

"I'm going to walk around the house and check whether he'd home. You stay here and call me if you see anything."

Of course nobody would suspect big black Lula in bright orange spandex of being a lookout. Way to inconspicuous.

"Hey, I'll look your ass off. Hell, Meyer won't know what hit him."

Judging by her size and vast array of colours I daresay he would.

I pocketed the Civics' keys and left Lula sitting in the car, still muttering to herself. I ducked into the backyard two houses down from Meyer's, scaling the fences with newfound ease. Hey, maybe this running everyday thing wasn't so bad?

I peered over the wooden fence into Meyer's garden. Well if you could call it that. In my opinion, it was more like a jungle. The old flowerbeds were overgrown with tall weeds and out of control bushes, the lawn a mess of tall grass and wild plants. Nice.

A second later I landed crouched in the garden, unholstering my gun and creeping toward the house. Very James Bond. Maybe I could be one of the hot lady side kicks, always in need of saving. I'll check the paper tomorrow for advertisements.

I crept through the bushes and up to the window at the back of the house. Shit. I could see Meyer dashing into the room depositing what looked like off white modelling clay and a thin, ten inch long stick next to it. He likes Play-dough? I had a sneaking suspicion that something wasn't right here. I ducked down with my back to the wall and closed my eyes. This was bad shit. Vinnie should never have bonded him out.

Just then a crashing sound came from the fence and a bright orange blur fell from the top. Lula. I ran a string of expletives through my head a banged my head against the wall behind me. Why me?

She crawled over as I heard Meyers resume moving around in the room, then a door slamming. Great. Now he was running for it.

"Lula I told you to stay in the car! Meyers was in the room behind us, you were in full view! He still has weapons and stuff and now he knows we're here. We need to scram."

"Ease up white girl, I was so quiet nobody heard me. I just wanted to see if you were gonna blow anything up you know? Besides, when I was coming over here I saw the skunk running out of the room. We can just sneak around the side of the house."

I still had my gun cocked in my hand. Lula saw it and at once sobered up.

"Shit girl, you are serious."

No kidding.

I motioned her to be quiet, then quickly crawled around the side of the house. As soon as we were close enough to the road I was up and running toward the Civic, still parked across from Meyer's house.

I was five metres when the niggling feeling at the back of my mind suddenly clicked. Modelling clay. Ten inch stick. I cursed myself for being so stupid. They weren't modelling clay and a stick. They were explosives and a detonator. Chris Meyers had a C-4 bomb.

Fuck.

I stopped dead and threw my arm out to stop Lula.

"NO!" I yelled.

And she blew. The Civic lifted into the air and disappeared in a haze of heat and gas, the shockwave punching me into the car behind. I felt the passenger window where I had hit shatter with the impact before my head snapped back and hit the roof with a sickening crack.

Shit.

And the world melted away.

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Hi! Hope you enjoyed it. Just in case you didn't get it – the off white clay stuff is a special explosive called C-4 which is malleable and highly produced by the US Military. The stick is a detonator, used (in case you can't put two and two together) to detonate the explosive. Nothing fancy. Kaboom!

Schaefy


	6. Chapter 6

Author's Note: Ello! Thanks for all the lovely reviews, to everyone who left funny comments and ideas, it makes it all the late night typing and writing worthwhile. I do it all for you guys! Thanks and enjoy the next chapter!

Schaefy

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My mind felt half focused and spaced out as I regained consciousness.

"Uhh…" I groaned.

All I knew was that my whole body hurt like a bitch. I could feel my mind sliding in and out of focus as I tried to open my eyes. I had no idea where I was or how much time had passed. I couldn't move a muscle though, as if I had suddenly become paralysed by something. I fought against whatever was holding me back and managed to move my head slightly. Sharp pain shot down my spine, causing me to jerk slightly and gasp. Shit.

My eyes eventually flickered open again as my mind continued to do loop the loops inside my skull. Damn brain. Don't know why I need one. I'll go to the hospital and get it removed as soon as possible. Finally my mind focused nearly entirely as I took in my surroundings. I could see the cloudy sky from wherever I was, pressed against something hard. Then I realised. I was still forced against the car I had hit, my back bent at an impossible angle over the roof, arms and legs spread eagled and motionless.

I tried to move slightly, to get myself unstuck to the car. Each tiny twitch caused pain to twinge down my back, my face wincing slightly every time I moved. Eventually I managed to shift my leg slightly, and pain flared down my back again. But the movement had unstuck me, and I began to slide down the car landing on my knees as they collapsed. Then I face planted into the shards of glass and shrapnel littering the ground around the car. They bit deep into my already scratched and sore cheeks, causing more blood to drip onto the tarmac beneath me.

My already sore head hit the ground with an almighty _crack_, and I dimly registered a lone figure clad in black sprinting toward me, as well as sirens and flashing lights in the distance. Then my head hit the ground and I was knocked unconscious again, my blank eyes staring unseeingly to the multitude of people and vehicles racing toward me.

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Rangers POV

I had abandoned the Turbo halfway down the street, already sprinting toward her. Running felt faster than driving the car. I was getting to her. Her motionless body was plastered to the side of the car, her head and neck snapped back against the roof. She could have broken her spine. Her skull, anything. Any movement could cause instant death.

I was getting closer when I saw her leg twitch slightly. Oh thank god, she's alive. Then her body began to slide down the car and she landed on her knees, then went face first into the road with a sickening _smack_.

Oh shit. Oh shit oh shit oh shit.

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I stared at her pale and bloody face resting on the pillow, her soft breaths barely audible over the beeping of the machines next to her. She had been rushed to hospital on a spinal board and immediately x-rayed on her spine, skull and torso. Nothing major broken, no vertebrae or skull; a few cracked ribs but that wasn't to serious. I had breathed a sigh of relief. She was still in danger though. There was severe swelling around her torso and especially her spine, which could potentially cut off vital nerves to her lungs for instance.

Her hand twitched in mine as she cringed in her sleep and her head turned slightly in the neck collar. Muttering inaudibly she nestled back and her face became pure and untroubled again.

She was so innocent. So vulnerable.

Like a baby bird needing protection and love.

I trailed a soft fingertip down her hairline to her cheek, over the numerous small cuts and bruises which laced her perfect complexion. I had eyes only for her face, the face which had occupied my dreams for months. Two months, to be exact. From the night she left Morelli. From the night I knew she would one day be mine. Well, hoped anyway. I had messed up pretty badly. Hurt her beyond my knowledge. Kicked her while she was down.

Her mouth was slightly open now, one had lying next to it on the pillow. It tensed slightly with my touch, as I stroked her unruly curls from her face.

Gently, her hand reached to grasp mine in her sleep, pulling it down to rest over her heart. It rose and fell with every tiny breath, feeling the beating of the heart lying centimetres below it.

I sat there like that for hours, each second waiting for the next beat of the heart. For the next reassurance that she was still living. Still with me.

0 0 0

It was early the next day and Steph was due to wake up any minute now. I was still sitting next to her where I had waited through the night; as nurses, doctors and a few selected family and friends filed past.

Dark circles were threatening to appear below my eyes as Tank walked in at seven am, with a cup of coffee and a bagel He set both of them on the table next to me. I just nodded a vague thanks but shook my head. I couldn't eat now. Not with her just lying there, motionless. Tank was having none of it though.

"Eat."

He said it with such conviction that I sighed in submission and picked up the bagel. It had been a long and exhausting night.

'I spoke to the doctor. She's out of danger and pretty good, except for a lot of torn ligaments in her back and swelling from the whiplash. And it seems she fractured her left scapula and about four ribs. The shoulder will need to be in a cast for a couple of weeks. She'll probably be kept a day or two for observation from concussion and her spinal swelling, then bed rest for the week after."

He looked at me for a second, his professional eye assessing me, missing nothing.

"Christ, you look as though you could use bed for a week as well. Go back and get some sleep. You can come back after.

I shook me head at once. Out of the question.

"I'm staying until she wakes up. End of story."

Tank hesitated for a second, then nodded.

"Fair enough but as soon as they sedate her again I'm taking you home. You can come back after a couple of hours sleep later tonight."

Despite my desire to be with her round the clock that sounded reasonable.

Tank nodded at the expression of assent on my face and pulled up a chair, settling in for the long haul. Steph shifted in her sleep, merely turning her face toward me as far as her collar would let out, a small smile on her lips. And slept on.

0 0 0

Steph's POV

I felt someone vaguely squeezing my hand, causing my back to twinge with pain. I moaned slightly and the hand tensed around mine. A soft voice spoke into my darkness.

"Steph? Steph wake up."

I struggled to rise to the surface again, my mind moving sluggishly through the drugs. I dragged heavy eyelids open and immediately saw Ranger clasping my hand in his, his eyes full of a mixture of anxiety, worry, and relief.

"Babe."

He sighed the word as he looked into my eyes.

My eyes travelled the length of his face, taking in his appearance. He looked exhausted beyond anything I had seen. There were deep black circles under his eyes, he was twelve hours past a five'o'clock shadow and his face was lined with worry and exhaustion.

I squeezed his hand back, gently entwining our fingers on the bed covers.

"You look exhausted. Are you all right?"

I spoke in barely more than a whisper, my voice reedy and thin. My breaths came in shallow gasps between every few words.

He smiled at the concern in my eyes.

"You're all that matters at the moment Babe. I was there minutes after it happened. When I saw you hit the ground my heart stopped. I could never forgive myself if anything happened to you, and we had never had a chance."

He paused for a second drawing soft circles on my palm with him fingertip, oblivious to everything but his thoughts. He looked up at me, his face expressive.

"It was close yesterday. Closer than I could ever be comfortable with. We nearly lost you several times through the night to swelling around your spine. It was constricting the central nervous system; at times, stopping the signals to your heart and lungs. I've never been so scared in my entire life. I thought I would lose you forever. I thought.. I thought you were gone… out of reach. I couldn't bear that. A life without you… I can't even imagine it. It's just no life at all. I'm so sorry Babe."

His voice was choked with restrained emotion, cracking finally on his last words. His eyes were equally full – regret, sorrow, pain, wonderment. Love. His dark eyes burned into my mind, all his emotions melded together inside them. He loved me. It was written there, clear as day.

"You love me." I said faintly. My voice was low and calm, mirroring my heart. It was not a question.

"Yes Babe. I love you." He said softly, smiling at me properly for the first time.

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Hi again just a brief explanation – scapula is the shoulder blade (which she fractured). I was going to keep adding onto this chapter but I liked this place as a spot to break it so I'll type up the next bit (its only short) and post it as chapter seven tonight a penance. But I'm getting better – my chapters are longer!

Thanks and please review! I judge the success of my stories by the reviews so keep typing them even if they're only like two words long. I don't care! .. ok tad random there. Nyho's cya,

Schaefy


	7. Chapter 7

I was released from St Francis two nights later, feeling sore but happy. Ranger had stayed with me the entire time, at night sleeping next to me on my hospital bed, by day sitting on the end of the bed or on the chair next to it.

My left shoulder and arm had been set in a cast down past my elbow preventing any movement, and I had only just discarded my whiplash collar and back brace. The torn muscles and ligaments made most movements agony, but I was determined to forget the pain and get back on my feet as soon as I could. I hobbled around my room when the nurses weren't looking and did back exercises the physio from the hospital taught me when he visited my room.

Ranger had me by my good hand and was gently leading me through the front doors of the hospital to the waiting Porsche and SUV parked outside. Tank, Lester and Bobby were all standing in front of them, grinning at me.

"Hey Bomber, looking good!"

"Bomber!"

"Steph! Looking much better than last time I saw you!"

I grinned at Tank and batted my eyelashes.

"Yeah, my natural beauty was finding it hard to fight through the drug induced sleep and whiplash collar."

The guys chuckled and each gave me a gentle bear hug then got into the SUV. Ranger helped me into the Turbo, gently lowering me into the passenger seat. I smiled. I could see from every action and expression that he cared deeply.

A second later he was sitting next to me and putting the Porsche in gear. We drove in silence for a while, both entering out respective zones. Suddenly, a few minutes into the drive, something jolted me back to earth.

"My apartment is the other way."

He just kept looking at the road for a moment, then answered.

"But we're not going to your apartment."

No kidding.

He spared me a look that said "Nu-duh" in a Ranger kind of way.

Typical Ranger answer. But for once I didn't nag. I tried Ranger's way – letting it slide. Go with the flow kind of thing. It was sort of relaxing, just trusting Ranger. I didn't have to worry, just accept. Nice. Soft, haunting classical music gently played in the background, adding to my laid back mood.

"Babe."

I was so wrapped up in my own zone that I hadn't realised we has pulled up in the Rangeman Car park. I looked at Ranger, my mouth open slightly, on the verge of questioning him.

"You… I'm staying here?"

He nodded, silently reaching for my good hand.

"On the fourth floor?"

He shook his head.

"Seventh Babe, if you want it. You can have one on the fourth if you'd prefer."

I paused for a second. Staying with Ranger would be nice at the moment, but I really wanted to just be alone for a while, to think without anybody watching. To relax with my thoughts. I knew I could move up to the seventh when I was ready.

Ranger had seemed to gather my answer from my expression.

"It's ok Babe, that's fine. You can always visit if you're lonely."

The edges of his lips tipped upward in a small smile, amusement clear in his eyes.

I smiled at him from the heart. He understood me perfectly. My need to be alone sometimes.

"Thankyou Ranger. For everything."

I looked into his eyes, full of nostalgia , a quiet contented peace lingering around his face. He smiled again slightly, and pressed his lips to my hand.

"All for you Babe."

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Author's note: I said I would have it out tomorrow!... just expected a little earlier maybe. Well twelve hours, but what's twelve hours to everyone? I'll shut up now. Enjoy!

Schaefy


	8. Chapter 8

_Author's Note: Ohh! The end of this chapter is just heartbreaking! Crap, I was so sad writing it! AH! Very depressing. I loved writing it even though it was so emotional, I loved seeing Ranger like that. Not that I would leave any clues. Please Review and let me know how well you think I wrote it, I know it's a challenge to get that particular action right for him because no one ever puts it in their stories. So I figured I would dare to be different._

_Schaefy_

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As soon as we got into Ranger's apartment I stumbled over to the couch and collapsed, the painkillers and sedatives I had taken at the hospital finally catching up with me.

My head had just hit the arm rest when I felt a soft hand touch my cheek.

"Babe."

I could feel myself drifting off lying there, my mind unfocusing as the drugs crept through my system.

"Babe, wake up."

The hand was rubbing my cheek insistently now. In your dreams, buster. Well actually mine. I just wanted to sleep at the moment.

"Unh… go … away … I … sleep… now." The words slurred slightly as my drugged my relaxed into unconsciousness. The hand on my stopped moving and far away I heard a soft chuckle.

Bastard.

Then I felt strong arms lift me off the couch, and I finally drifted of completely, snuggled into his warm chest.

I could get used to this…

0 0 0

For the next few days I ate, drank, showered and slept non-stop; occasionally visited by Ranger in my fourth floor apartment. A week after I left hospital the sedatives were finished and my painkillers were downgraded to high strength Neurofen. Good news for me, now I could actually stay awake for more than half an hour at a time, carry on a conversation for more than three sentences and hopefully go back to work sooner.

I woke up that morning, feeling very happy and rested. I grinned to myself. Today was the day. I could get up. Walk around. Eat properly. Speak to people. My eyes snapped open. Hooray! No more sleep! I mean, I'm the queen of laziness but there's only so much sleep a girl can take no matter how lazy she is.

I pulled on a pair of black sweats and my favourite black tank top with silver sequins on the front, swept my wild hair into a messy bun then bouncing straight out the door and straight into a large Tank-sized wall.

Me and my gigantic cast bounced off and fell to the floor as Tank looked around to see what had hit him. He grinned when he saw me positively jiggling with happiness on the ground and pulled me up by my good arm.

"Hey Bomber! Don't kill yourself on your first day out of bed, Ranger wouldn't be happy!"

I grinned back at him and slid my arm around his waist and practically pulling him toward the lift.

"Who cares! No more sleep! Come _on_ Tank I haven't eaten a proper meal in over a week! I need donuts and coffee! Or Maccas! Or Cluck in a Bucket!"

His grin widened as he allowed himself to be led into the lift, than put and arm around my shoulders and ruffling my hair like the older brother I never had.

"Good to have you back Steph." He said, playfully poking my head to the side. I laughed happily and gave him an affectionate dig in the ribs.

"You're just a big softie Tank!"

I heard a soft growl of laughter in his chest as he swiftly covered my mouth with one large hand and bent to whisper in my ear.

"Yeah, but don't tell anyone!" I struggled out from his hand and hugged him as he enveloped me in a bear hug as well. I knew he would never admit that to anyone else so I squeezed him extra hard to let him know I appreciated it.

Then we broke apart and the list doors opened to the control room. Everyone looked up from their work and began cheering at the sight of me. I knew all the boys at Rangeman loved me and had been looking forward to having me back in their midst wreaking havoc.

Bobby and Lester looked up from the bank of monitors in the corner, and immediately grinned at me and gave me big hugs,

"Bombshell, you're back in the land of the living!"

"Bomber! It's been dull without you – no explosions or fires or anything!"

Suddenly what seemed like half of Rangeman were gathered around us; laughing, cheering and hugging me in equal measures. Hands rained down on my back and ruffled my hair in greeting until Tank grabbed me and swung me up onto his shoulders, so everyone could see me. There was a collective cheer as I grinned over the crowd and many calls of "Bomber!" and "Bombshell, welcome back!". I was so happy with being allowed out of bed and my warm welcome that I didn't notice the lone figure decked out in black, leaning against the door to his office. A smile was stretched over his face as I high-fived a few of the guys, and grinned at him over the crows. He grinned and nodded my welcome, then crooked a finger at me to 'come here'.

The guys eventually dispersed into small groups around the room, chatting and laughing. Tank, Bobby and Lester were standing with me, still by the lift. Oblivious to the others I watched Ranger push off the door and head back into his office again, something like disappointment in my heart. I thought he would be happy I was back. My smile sagged a little, maybe he didn't want me here? Tank saw me watching him and bent down to whisper in my ear again.

"He wants to talk to you. He's been very worried. Checked on you at least a couple of times a day. He missed you."

Then he gave me a small push in the small of the back towards Ranger's office. Ranger had missed me?

0 0 0

I gently pushed open the door to his office, peering around the door. I saw Ranger half sitting against his desk, holding a dark wood photo frame in his hand. I stopped quietly at the door, sensing I was intruding on something private. His face was sad and expressive, regretful and strangely empty; as if whoever was in the photo frame was just out of reach, or dead. As if he had loved them.

He ran his thumb up the worn side of the frame, tracing the pattern his hand traced so often that the dark wood of the frame was worn smooth down one side. His face, still half turned away from me was silent. It showed more pain than I would ever have believed possible to exist, to bear; let alone show on Ranger's face.

His mouth was set in a tight line, his eyes squeezed hard against the emotion threatening to engulf him. His whole face was drawn and lined with tiredness and anxiety. His eyes staring unblinkingly at the photo in his hand.

I saw the wetness in his eyes as he gripped the desk with his other hand harder, his face grimacing at the effort of containing his emotions. His teeth were bared and gritted, his eyes shut tight. Then a tiny nearly inaudible sob escaped him and his face relaxed again, eyes closed. I stood motionless by the door, just watching his intense emotion take over him. Then my breath caught in my throat.

A tiny shining silver tear fell onto his cheek, hugging its' contours as it slid gently down and settled on his shirt. The trail of the single tear glistened in the light from the window behind him, as if marking the place where it had fallen forever. That single tear held the entire weight of his emotions at that moment, the grief, horror, sadness and anxiety. It tugged painfully at my heart as I watched, my heart swimming in sadness for Ranger.

His eyes opened again slowly, cast down, staring at the photo in his hands with a sigh. Then his head turned to acknowledge me, still standing quietly by the door. He took one last look at the photo, then turned it to face me. I drew a quick breath. A beautiful smiling face looked back at me, surrounded by Point Pleasant beach and an iridescently blue sky.

Ranger's mouth tipped slightly in a small sad smile. He held his hand out to me, beckoning me over.

"Babe."

His voice cracked with grief on the single word.

Babe.

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Author's Note: This was a good place to break it – next chapter up in about ten minutes (just have to type it). How'd I do? Was crying Ranger convincing? I hope so. So sad. Next chapter is even worse. Tell me how I did!

schaefy


	9. Chapter 9

The photo in his hand held not one picture, but two. I was smiling radiantly out of Point Pleasant, my wild hair flying around my tanned face as I grinned happily. However in the bottom of the frame, another smaller picture had been added. Recently by the looks of it.

I was lying pale and bloody on a hospital ER bed, strapped to a spinal board with a neck and back brace visible. My shoulder stuck out at an odd angle and part of my shirt had been cut away to reveal bruises spanning my entire torso as dark as the night sky where I had hit the car.

My breath caught in my throat as I stared at myself. I looked so… so vulnerable, so sad. So lifeless.

Another tear fell, onto my cheek this time as Ranger's pain ripped through my heart. I slowly walked over to him, my mind blank with shock and horror. He pulled me close, hugging me tightly to him, as if I might slip away from him at any moment.

"I was so worried. I thought I'd lost you."

His voice was husky in my ear, cracking with the pain of his thoughts and memories.

I hugged him back tightly, shocked at the depth of his feelings and his loss of control. He stroked my hair softly, his breath shuddering irregularly next to my ear, head shaking slightly as if trying to dispel a bad dream.

"Don't ever leave me Steph."

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To be continued?


	10. Chapter 10

Author's Note: Hello! Just wanted to say thanks for all your enthusiasm for the story and its' continuation, and to let you know that I will see it through. And it won't end on a cliff hanger. Coz I'm not that mean. Anyway this chapter.. Well I'm not sure about it. See what you think.

Schaefy

0 0 0

I was severely shaken after my insight into Ranger's heart, almost as much as Ranger was that I had come so close to slipping away. When it was him on life support; fine, all in a days work. But with me… I was something he couldn't replace.

For the next couple of weeks I hung out with Tank, Lester and Bobby if they were in, or with whoever was on the monitor shift. I trained with the guys, pushing myself harder and longer every day to recover from my injuries. My back and neck were still painful at times, but I constantly worked on them with exercises the physio had given me to strengthen them and they gradually got better. I was happy and never without company or entertainment, and those turned out to be some of the best weeks of my life. I joked with Tank, Lester and Bobby about Ranger mostly, and found out some pretty funny stories about Ranger during his teenage and army years, much to his annoyance. I got to know everyone on the Control Floor and always hung out there, to be close to Ranger. He was still jarred by my near-death experience and I noticed he always kept his door slightly ajar so he could hear me.

Most of the scratches and bruising had healed and the scars were fading, the only major injury left being my elephant of a cast. It was big, black and ugly and looped around my chest, shoulder and arm; completely immobilising it. Everyone who got monitor duty (Plus Tank, Lester and Bobby) signed it in liquid Whiteout, yet there was still plenty of room left. In the end Lester, who it turns out has an artistic streak dug up some sparkle glue and drew all over it. He put on everything from flowers to my car exploding to a surprisingly accurate portrait of myself surrounding a large colourful "Bombshell" in the middle. It became a work of art which was commented on wherever I went.

But the moment I stepped into my lonely apartment on the fourth floor my good mood quickly failed. When I was with the guys I was happy and distracted from it, too swept up by what was happening around me. But when I was alone in the apartment I just… let go of the happiness. And watched it drift away. I became depressed and introverted when I was alone, eating little and sleeping longer than ever. The moment I stepped into my apartment I would climb into bed and sleep as if I had been in the gym all day. I quickly lost energy from the lack of food and became constantly tired, deep black circles under my eyes. I knew that the medication I was taking was causing this, the doctor had told me so, but there was no other type to use. The side effects included depression, decrease in appetite, and in severe reactions occasionally eating disorders. I knew that these were my exact symptoms. But I pushed the thought away as insignificant, this wasn't what was happening. I was tired from my morning workout and the only reason I didn't eat a lot of the time was because I had trouble preparing meals with my arm out of commission. Deep down, I didn't believe it though. I knew something was wrong.

I began refusing most meals, namely breakfast and dinner, only eating lunch because the guys would notice if I skipped it. But I was alone for the others, so I didn't trouble myself with eating them. I was losing weight rapidly, from the increased exercise and lack of food. When I lost my first ten kilograms I was happy; it was unwanted extra baggage. Then I lost another ten, and I was beginning to push it. My whole body became dangerously thin. My arms and legs were thin and muscular, to the point where it looked more than unhealthy. My face hollowed and my eyes sunk back into my skull. Gradually the thought of food made me feel sick to the stomach and I starting eating less and less more often I began to wonder why my clothes no longer fitted all of a sudden. I became tired easily from lack of food and body fat, often falling asleep in the control room next to whoever was working the shift.

This was where I was today, a month after I had left hospital, dozing in a chair next to Tank who was on monitor shift. It was eleven'o'clock and Tank had woken me four times already this morning, but I just couldn't find the energy after the workout I'd had in the gym that morning.

"Steph… Steph wake up."

"Unh…"

I just crossed my good arm in front over my cast, trying to keep warm. Oops. By now I was painfully thin, and I had made a point of wearing baggy clothing so people could see what had happened to my body. But all my long-sleeved shirts had been in the wash this morning, so I had hastily grabbed a blue Tank Top and a sweatshirt to wear over it. Unfortunately I had discarded with the sweatshirt just before I had fallen asleep again, using it as a pillow. My entire torso was showing, my arms uncovered for the first time in weeks.

Tank stopped moving immediately and I could almost feel him staring at me.

"Steph." He said in a level voice. "Steph, what happened to you?"

I sighed resignedly and pulled open my tired eyes. This was not going to be pretty.

"Nothing happened Tank, what do you mean?"

Best to play the "I don't Know" card.

He stared at me; mask in place, looking my up and down wit a new appreciation.

"We need to get you to hospital."

"No Tank, what's wrong, I'm fine!" I was half-yelling now; scared he would discover my secret. He couldn't. I didn't know what would happen if they did. I just wanted to deal with it on my own. I just wanted to be alone.

He seemed confused for a second, as if doubting his earlier worries. Then he slumped back in his chair, frowning slightly.

"Ok, Steph it's alright."

I sighed, completely convinced he had neither forgotten the issue, or was going to leave it alone. I watched the screens absently for a moment, thinking. I was half-glad, half-anxious that Tank had noticed. I knew something was wrong and I was dangerously underweight. If I didn't do something soon, I could get seriously sick. But I had gotten used to not eating and I was unwilling to go back to the way things were.

I settled down in my chair again, pulling my cast up my arm. My arms had shrunk from the lack of body fat and as a result the cast was so big I could have taken it off if it had not looped around my chest. As it was, it bounced around a lot and I was beginning to doubt whether it was doing its job.

Tank saw me hitching it up and sighed.

"It's too big isn't it?" I cast my eyes down, biting my thumb nail. I must have bitten it harder than I thought because it snapped and cut my lip. I sucked on the blood, and nodded slightly. Tank sighed again and rubbed his face with his hands.

Then I felt a familiar sensation in my foot. I gritted my teeth against the pins and needles which was coming more and more often now and bent down to rub my bare foot. Tank was watching and gasped when he looked at my feet. I realised too late and quickly hid them from view under my chair.

"It's nothing Tank, it happens all the time." He shook his head, adamant this time.

"Pins and needles isn't it. And it's becoming insistent? More often perhaps? You bruise easier and you nails snap more often don't they."

I frowned and nodded slightly. How had he known?

"Steph that's not normal. You're very sick."

He gently pulled one foot out from under the chair and placed it on his knee, gently examining it. It was purple.

0 0 0

I pulled it back quickly and rubbed it until the pins and needles went away. Then I hugged my knees to my chest, feeling the cold again. A hard shiver wracked my body as I gasped slightly.

Tank took one last look at me and pulled out his phone.

"Hal I need you on Control Room shift. Now."

A minute later Hal was walking swiftly towards us. Tank nodded to him then gently took my right hand, guiding me toward the lifts.

"Where are we going?"

The lift doors opened and we stepped inside, Tank pressing for the fourth floor.

"Your apartment. You need to lie down and eat something while we get a doctor in."

I tried to pull my hand out of his grip but he held firm until the lift doors opened. My head spun with anger.

"I don't want to go Tank, let me go!" I was yelling now, tears blurring my vision, feeling dizzier and dizzier as I fought to free myself. Finally Tank conceded and my hand wrenched itself away, as I stumbled blindly into the hall, leaning on the wall for support. My knees started to cave in and Tank reached for me again but I screamed and staggered away as fast as I could. My head was rocking and spinning and I couldn't make sense of anything no matter how hard I tried. I lurched toward the opposite wall and collided into it, my hands trying to grab something to hold on to. Then my eyes rolled and my legs collapsed under me. I hit the floor a second later, unconscious.

0 0 0

Tanks POV

Quickly I turned her over and checked her pulse and breathing. Slow heart rate, shallow breaths. I mentally hit myself for not realising sooner. It was so obvious. The extreme weight loss, overly strict exercising, regular pins and needles, purple extremities and slow heart rate. They all pointed to one thing. Anorexia Nervosa.

I swore violently, gathered her to my chest with one arm and started running for the stairs, the other hand pulling out my phone.

Ranger picked up on the second ring.

"Yo." He was quiet and sounded slightly distracted but I ignored it.

"Tank. Steph's sick, she needs to get to hospital. I'm on the way down to the garage, I've got her." He had barely hung up when I heard the stairwell door crash open a couple of floors about and Rangers quick steps sprinting down.

Another few seconds later I was down in the garage and heading for an SUV. Ranger beeped it open and angled into the driver's seat while I gently laid an unconscious Steph on the backseat and sat down next to her.

"Go." I muttered quietly to Ranger and he stepped on the gas, heading for the hospital.

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Review. You know you want to.


	11. Chapter 11

Author's Note: Hey all. Just wanted to say thanks to all who reviewed (specially to the anon. ones coz I can't reply and say thanks) You guys rock. The last chapter… well from what I heard it was liked but I don't know. I'm going where no one has gone before. Let's hope I get it right!

Schaefy

PS: Bear with me here if I get any fact wrong etc, send me a PM and tell me to fix it! Sorry in advance.

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Ranger's POV

The ER was quiet when we got there and Steph was checked straight through to the casualty ward. Two nurses led Tank over to a free bed and he gently deposited her onto it, her face almost as white as the pillow beneath it. One of the nurses began hooking her up to machines and taking her pulse while the other looked to me for an explanation.

"What happened."

I explained about Steph's accident, the side effects of her medication, how she had become quiet and introverted the last few weeks and finally fainted. The nurse listened closely, taking down notes on a clipboard.

"She should wake up soon, then we'll weigh her and move her to another room. She'll need to be admitted until she reaches a healthy weight and can handle her problems. I'd say it's very likely she was Anorexia and now she's there it can be a hard road back."

She smiled sadly at the worry written all over my face.

"She's the fourth this week. The second died yesterday, but she was extreme. Problems since childhood poor thing. The most important thing is to remember that recovery is possible. Even when times get rough, just keep going and it will eventually work out."

That was the best piece of advice throughout the coming months of her treatment. It was hard and it was painful. For both of us. It was a long, brutal slog. But we got through it. Eventually.

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Steph's POV

I was lying awake a few weeks later, staring at the small window in my room. It was dark outside. The kind of dark that makes you feel you should be at home in front of an open fire toasting marshmallows. My stomach turned over at the thought of food. I curled up under the covers more and shivered. I hadn't felt this cold since… since I was ten and I wanted it to be summer in the middle of a very snowy winter. I walked around for a day in board shorts and a t-shirt with a line of green zinc across my nose. Needless to say it was a chilling experience.

I hugged my bear Bernie tighter to my chest. Ranger had bought him for me to keep me company at night. He was large and dark brown with brown eyes and a woolly scarf tied around his neck. It tickled my skin as I buried my face in him. I was so… so alone, ao helpless, so numb, so … desolate. Like I was on an island in the middle of the ocean, passing the mainland with no means to reach it. It was so hard; so, so hard to talk to Ranger or my therapist Dr Elliott. To open up. To show what's inside. But I so desperately wanted to speak it out loud, to explain it to someone. Somehow… I knew I would feel better after. It would seem… not insignificant… but a smaller problem, now I had a companion to help me beat it. But I hadn't told anyone. Yet. I fell into a dreamless sleep and awoke the next morning to find a shaft of sunlight shining on my bed, casting a golden glow around the room.

I pulled my knees to my chest and stared at the window throughout the day, trying to figure out what was happening to me. I had taught myself in the past that denial was the way to solver world peace. Having followed this ultimatum strictly for years upon years, naturally the first reaction I had to confronting my problem was to adamantly refuse to believe what was happening to me. Not Ranger, Tank, Dr Elliott nor any of the nurses could convince me. But now as I sat alone, thinking, I knew it. Dr Elliott had told me in our first meeting that I couldn't get over it before I accepted the problems. Now I guess I knew about it, I wanted to get better. I didn't want to be a burden on anyone's mind. So when Ranger came to visit that night, I knew exactly what I wanted to say. I was sitting in a chair near the window when he came, sliding through the gap in the door silently and closing it behind him. I turned to look at him, and smiled.

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Ranger's POV

At once I knew there was something different about her. Her eyes were clear and focused as they had not been for weeks. A few weeks worth of forced meals had brought colour back to her cheeks, and taken some of the hollowness of her face away. She looked more accepting today, more calm, more peaceful. Instead of stubborn and fearful. She gave me a small smile in greeting as I walked over and gently hugged her to me around her cast. It had been replaced the day after she had arrived but this time did not encase her elbow, allowing more movement. She was pleased with this and as I gently pulled her up and enfolded h in my arms, I felt her left arm on my back. I paused there for a second, relaxing, breathing in the soft scent of her hair. Then she pulled away and sat down again, her face quite serious.

"Ranger… I have something to tell you. Today…"

She seemed unsure as to how to go about speaking her mind. She paused for a second, than went on.

"Well today I realised I can't deny it forever. I know I have Anorexia and possible depression as a result. I guess now I know that… Now that I realise it, I want it fixed. I want to get better. I don't want to be unhappy as I have been. But more importantly I don't want you to constantly worry over me. I don't want my problems to interrupt your life. An anorexic friend is not what you need right now. I don't want you to have to rush to the hospital every night to check on me, because I'm like this. It's… It's not fair to you."

Her clear blue eyes were filled with sadness, of pity for me. They pierced deep into my soul, seeing everything in me. They were eyes that had seen too much. Witnessed too much. Too much pain and destruction… they had witnessed her own destruction. I stared back at her, amazed. She was sicker than I had ever seen her, thin and her life had been in danger. Yet she still thought of other people instead of herself. After a slight pause she drew a slow, shuddering breath and continued, staring my in the eye with her brilliant blue ones.

"I'm doing this for me and for you. For the guys, my friends… maybe even my family. They mean well… just don't get it quite right. I called them a few weeks ago. I've told then I'm away on a job for a couple of months. I don't need then here. I don't… I need to do this alone. Without them. I sounds harsh but I know it's right. They don't understand anything beyond themselves and the Burg and… they don't understand pain. It will be too hard on them and me. It's what's best."

She paused again, a far away look in her eye as she stared at the small window. Then her thoughtful blue eyes flicked to mine, a slightly wondering look on her face.

"I'm going to get better."

She said it with such quiet confidence and determination that I knew she would, however long it might take. I gave an internal sigh of pride and relief.

That was my Babe. She was going to get better.

0 0 0

I know it's moving a little fast but bear with me. If you don't understand some of her thought patterns just PM me, it's hard to explain it to someone who hasn't experienced it.

PS: Review. Pretty Please?


	12. Chapter 12

_Dear Diary._

_That sounds so stupid. So eleven year old. Ok, crossed it out. Since this isn't really a diary. Diaries are for teenagers who need to figure out their boyfriend troubles, and wonder who is going out with whom. This… well, this is a journal. My recovery Journal. _

_To help me write down and hopefully understand my problems with and questions about my treatment. It's been two months since I was admitted to hospital, and already I've improved enormously. I can usually keep at least one or two meals per day down the hatch without too much trouble, instead of in my sick bucket. I have enough trouble trying to get myself to eat it, then when I do I usually heave it all up again. It's so sad… I have my own sick bucket. With my name on it and everything. As you can imagine the hours of lying in bed day after day do get slightly dull sometimes, so I drew all over it. At least__** it**__ can look pretty even though it has the contents of my stomach spattered inside it._

_But I'm avoiding the point. The point is, I'm getting better, but I'm still not there yet. I've put on about seven kilos out of the twenty I have to gain to be at a healthy weight. According to Dr Elliott that's really good. I'm pretty happy too. My depression is gone, thank god, although I still have the occasional off day like everybody else. But Dr Elliott has taught me how to make it as easy as possible for me and everyone else around me which has definitely helped a lot in the long run. _

_I'm in a long-term ward with other psychiatric patients around my age. Two guys and four girls. Damien and Chris are both twenty five, but Damien is Obsessive Compulsive while Chris has Post-traumatic Stress Disorder. He found his girlfriend swinging from the rafters the day before he had planned to propose. The girls are Carly, Catherine, Lisa and Milly; and are especially close to me. Carly is Bulimic, Catherine has Panic Disorder, Milly is Obsessive compulsive and Lisa has Clinical Depression._

_It's been good to have them around me I guess, especially since they have experienced what I have and know how it feels. I've become especially close to Lisa, who is in the bed next to me. He depression started when she was fourteen and at school. For a year she went around as usual but knowing something was wrong. She eventually got so bad that she tried to cut herself at the age of sixteen and was taken to hospital then. For the next few years she came in and out of recovery, often having major relapses which tore down what she had just achieved and forcing her to start again. She is twenty four now and on the road to final recovery. She only had a few weeks left in hospital and I know once she leaves I'm going to be lonely. Her advice as much as Dr Elliott's has helped me overcome my depression. She helped me leave it behind and concentrate on getting rid of my anorexia._

I thought of Lisa. She was such a kind hearted person, and she had done so much for me, no matter how sick she was. I looked down at the slanting writing covering the previous pages of my new journal. It would help. It was helping. I glanced over at Lisa in the armchair next to me, reading a library book. Jane Austin, Pride and Prejudice. I smiled. She has shown me I could get better. That I would get better.

0 0 0

Now it was three months after I had been admitted to hospital, and today I was allowed to join in Group Therapy. I had been too shy to participate before, I didn't understand my condition and I wasn't healthy enough to participate. But now… Now I knew I was ready. I had asked Dr Elliott at his visit yesterday, and he had encouraged me to go. So here I was.

The seven of us who lived in the ward had made a circle of chairs at the end of it, leaving a gap for the smiling plump lady who conducted Group Therapy. She smiled at me, slumped nervously in my seat, and introduced herself.

"Hi Stephanie, I'm Jackie – as you probably know I run Group. Group is a place where you can share your story with everyone if you are comfortable, and you can tell us how you feel about it. It often helps to just tell someone about whatever is on your mind, to ask for their opinion or advice. We thought today since we have a new member of the group, we'd each share our stories and then perhaps if you're comfortable, you could too. Who'd like to start?"

Chris put up his hand, and began to speak after Jackie's nod of approval. I was interested in this, but still nervous. I could see how this would help me in the long run, but it didn't make telling other people any easier. Chris began to tell us how he had had a great relationship with his girlfriend of four years, when over a couple of months she became sad and withdrawn. He had tried to help, but a week after he had found her hanging from the roof of their house, a death note in her cold hand. He had been so scared, confused and frightened that his distress turned into Post-traumatic-stress Disorder, or PTSD. He had been in hospital for four months now and was gradually getting better.

Damien had Obsessive Compulsive disorder, and liked to put everything he saw into alphabetical order. He even did his entire school library once. His parents knew something was wrong then so he was sent away, and they tried to ignore it. The problem resurfaced time and time again in different ways, until Damien could not go without holding his favourite sweater for more than a couple of hours. He had been in hospital for a week longer than me, and was already nearly ready to be released.

Carly was the typical teenage girl convinced she was fat. She had become Bulimic at the age of nineteen and had been in hospital for over a year now, but was relapsing too often to be discharged in the next few months.

Lisa had suffered depression since she had been at school but had also been relapsing too often and had to keep returning to various treatment clinics and hospitals. She was confident in herself now and knew she was not going to let it get to her again. She was due to be released in two weeks now.

Milly was last, and looked very anxious as she began to stutter her story. She had experienced several panic attacks over the past years, too often to be neglected. She had been in hospital for five months and was unlikely to be discharged for a while yet.

I looked around at the people all around me, amazed at how much they had each individually suffered. Each of them had seen so much internal destruction, so much pain, so much uncertainty. Yet they sat here calmly telling me about it, as if it really wasn't such a big deal. Each was recovering, however slowly; sailing back from their trips to the ends of the earth. I looked around at them, silent and wondering. We were the ones who were the bravest in the world. Not the people who ran out in the War fronts, although they came close. Not those who sacrificed everything for someone else, although they too came close. We were the ones who had so bleak an outlook on life that at times we wondered whether it was worth living, yet still made it through. We suffered pain that could not be cured by bandages. We saw destruction that could not be rebuilt with cranes. We watched ourselves be torn down and held there, unable to escape. We just watched.

0 0 0

Don't get offended or anything about the last paragraph, just accept it.


	13. Chapter 13

So the weeks and months continued as I set about recovering in hospital. Ranger and I became closer as he spent at least an hour or two with me every day or two, always turning up at my monthly appraisals with Dr Elliott and helping me be as comfortable as possible in hospital. Tank, Bobby and Lester all visited me a couple of times a week; often bringing movies and board games and things to make their visits fun. I always thoroughly enjoyed them no matter how bad I had felt that day, and I knew I couldn't get through it without them.

Ranger was in charge of covering for me when my family and friends tried to find out where I was. Connie, Lula and Vinnie had all called; not to mention my mother (At least once a week), grandmother (every other day) and just about every member of my extended family. Eventually Ranger had created a voicemail message on my mobile saying that I was away for a couple of months, not to worry and I would let them know as soon as I was back.

Over the next four months I put on one or two kilos per month which brought me back to a healthy weight range, and through the counselling of Dr Elliott and Lisa I managed to overcome both my depression and anorexia.

Today was my discharge day, which I had been looking forward to for months on end. My time in hospital had been long and difficult with as many triumphs as setbacks. I had relapsed a total of three times, all within a month of each other, and all cured soon after. I was now confident that I could handle it on my own if it happened again.

My eyes flicked open the moment the suns rays hit the windows of the ward. I grinned happily to myself and hugged Bernie to me tighter, drawing my knees to my chest. Today was the day. Today was the day I finished one section of my life and started another. Life after Anorexia. I twirled a now long curl in my fingers, absently staring at the lengthening rays of the sun spreading across the floor. I was so ready to go. To move on. To leave what had happened behind, but not forget about it. Because to forget about it… would be to forget everything I had learnt about myself during my recovery. That I was determined and dedicated, that I could hold fast in the face of danger. Well, internal anyway. That I needed the love and support of Ranger and Lisa and Tank, Lester and Bobby to live my life. To keep going.

I rolled over and looked at the now empty bed beside me, where Lisa had once lain. She had been released a few months back, staying on as an outpatient. She came to see me a couple of times a week, occasionally with a chocolate and lollies which I had quickly grown to love again as much as food. We would scarf them down sitting on my bed and talk about everything except our illness'. I needed a break from worrying or reflecting on my anorexia, and Lisa would tell me everything that was going on around Trenton and even some of the people I knew. Apparently Joe and Joyce (the scum) were still going out; but amazingly, I didn't really care that much. Mu old life with Joe seemed like it had happened ages ago, like I had been a different person. Well I guess I had. In the past months I had grown in myself, more than I knew Joe or Joyce ever would. My old worries and problems seemed so insignificant and stupid that I often laughed about then with Lisa as we talked about our lives. I knew that now, life was going to be much different. I was not the foolish, single minded girl I had been. I was now a focused and confident woman, one who had seen people at their worst. Who had been to hell and back. And lived to tell the tale.

0 0 0

By eight-o-clock I was showered, dressed and just finished eating breakfast at the table in the middle of the ward. I had just gotten back to my bed when I saw a familiar figure walk through the door.

"Holy shit." I thought. It was Lisa. And she was breathtaking.

She was tall and slim, her blonde ringlets worn loose for the first time around her shoulders, sparking like a halo in the warm sunlight falling onto her. She was wearing beautiful pale cream halter dress cut just above the knee, which accentuated her slimness and soft features. The skirt of the dress fell gently from just under her chest, floating slightly as she walked across the ward, expertly avoiding all the cables and obstacles on the floor with a practised eye. I just gaped at her gliding over to me effortlessly.

"Holy shit." She chuckled. I said that out loud?

Still grinning at me she pulled me up and into a tight hug, then sat cross legged on the bed, next to me.

"I didn't know you were coming today?! You look absolutely amazing!" I said, still gaping in surprise. She smiled again and her face seemed to light up with an effortless beauty I had failed to see the entire time I had known her. She seemed so… at ease, so graceful, so carefree. So beautiful.

"I wouldn't miss your discharge day! I was so excited on mine! Of course, I nearly failed my medical but I got out alright."

I grinned at her but mentally took a deep breath. As far as I knew I was the right weight, but what if I wasn't? I was rapidly getting sick of the hospital now I was fully recovered, and I knew I could not stand much longer in there.

Lisa saw my expression fall slightly in worry and put her arm around my shoulder and hugged me to her.

"You'll pass don't worry! And even if you don't they won't keep you much longer. A week, two at tops. Just forget about it ok? You'll be fine."

I sighed and nodded. She was right, there was nothing to do but wait. I would have to take life as it comes for now. Or at least until I was strong enough to change that.

Half and hour later Lisa had helped me pack my things which had scattered amazingly far around the ward, and we were sitting on my bed chatting again. Then I saw a man with dark skin and hair slip past the door and walk quietly towards us. He looked nearly normal today, dressed in worn faded jeans, an open black cotton shirt and a white t-shirt underneath. Except nothing looks normal on Ranger.

He walked over and gave us the benefit of his full 200 watts, pulling me into a tight hug.

"You made it Babe. You did it. I'm so proud of you."

He pulled back slightly and I stared at him for a moment, his hands gently cupping my face. My heart calmly accepted the feeling written all over his face. The wonder at my strength, the pride that I had got through my troubles, the joy of seeing me well and whole again. It was a strange feeling you know; as I stood there, still held by him.

He was proud of me.


	14. Chapter 14

I was jumpy and nervous all through my medical, barely able to stand still on the scales even with Ranger and Lisa standing calmly either side of me. My mind was teeming with "What if's" about the future. What if I wasn't discharged? What if I relapsed and I had to come back? What if I relapsed and waited to get help until it was too late? But my biggest fear was still hidden. What if the Burg found out?

It would be all over the area in a second, my parents (well, my mother) would disown me for not telling them, my friends would be hurt I had not confided in them and Morelli. Well, who knows with Morelli. But the thing was they would never treat me the way they always had if they knew. I knew from meeting hospital visitors and talking to other patients that id they don't understand the disease, they don't know how to treat you. Things become uncomfortable until it becomes too much so to see them. All because they couldn't understand what had happened to me, and were not comfortable with it.

And I knew I couldn't handle that at the moment. It was too complex, too difficult when it could be so simple. Ranger seemed to sense my unease as we waited for the Doctor – Nick, one of my closest friends at the hospital – to give us the news on the medical.

He gently held my hand and rubbed his thumb over it, calming me.

"It'll be alright. Whatever happens."

Nick came back five minutes later a load of paperwork and my file in his arms and a grin on his face.

"Your medical was great Steph, well done on your great recovery!" He paused and looked at me warmly for a moment.

"In all my ten years of work in this hospital I've never seen such determination and dedication in a patient in their recovery, especially with such a crippling disease. You should be proud of yourself Steph."

I embraced him warmly, tears forming in my eyes, a huge grin on my face.

"Tanks so much Nick, you've been so great with me!"

He hugged me back, then pulled away to hold my upper arms.

"You deserve it Steph. You deserve every inch of your success. You worked hard for it. Make sure you enjoy it now."

Then he handed me my discharge papers and gave me one last hug, whispering in my ear so no one else could hear.

"My number is written on the papers. Call me for coffee sometime ok?" he smiled his friendly smile anxiously at me until I nodded, then he said his final goodbyes and left.

I stood silently for a second, a serenely calm expression on my face. Just taking it in. I was better. I was free. I could go on living my life. I turned around to face the other two, similar thoughtful expressions on their faces.

I looked at them.

They looked at me.

Pause.

I screamed and at once the mask broke and they were both grinning and laughing with me, hugging me tightly. Tears of joy ran down my face as I held Ranger close against me, feeling the laughter in his chest. My love and friendship for him and Lisa welling up inside me over their unyielding support for me. It was all over. Finished. That horrible chapter of my life was closed. It had seemed such a large task on the outset it looked at though these past months would never be over. But they were… and I was here to see them end.

I held onto my two friends as hard as I could, sobbing from the happiness and joy that it was over. And I could not have done it without them.

My heart filled with love for all those who had suffered along with me through my recovery – who had seen me at my worst, vulnerable and alone; who had held my hand as I had sobbed uncontrollably from the internal pain; who had watched my pain slowly tear me down, knowing there was absolutely nothing they could do about it.

And yet they stood by me the whole time. Through the highs and lows, the relapses, the further loss of weight and even, a few days into my hospital stay, an attempt to end my own life.

I paused in front of the front doors, breathing in slightly nervously. Things were going to be very different from now on. I could never go back to the way things were; not now I had done what I had done and seen what I have seen. Taking life for granted wasn't an option anymore, not when I had seen its true value.

There was still one major question to be answered though, and I faced it with a much calmer and more logical mind than the first time. My family and friends would want to know what happened. They would hound me until I told them the truth. Should I tell them? I still didn't know. I wanted to leave what had happened behind me and move on, but if I told my family that could never happen. But it seemed so wrong not to tell them, a terrible lack of trust and faith in them. To fabricate an entire eight months of my life.

Ranger squeezed my hand slightly, looking back at my slightly thoughtful expression. I smiled at him and put it from my mind.

I would tell them when I was ready and not before. Perhaps in a day, a week, a year, maybe ten. Perhaps never. I was ready when I was ready. And that was all that mattered.


	15. Chapter 15

We said goodbye to Lisa outside the hospital after she and I exchanged phone numbers and email addresses, and sped off in Rangers Turbo, sleek and shiny as it had been eight months ago. Shit. Eight months?! There was a fat chunk of life missing there!

"Hey Ranger get this – I haven't been in a car for eight months?!"

Ranger let out a shout of laughter and still grinning, settled his hand on mine as he cruised confidently.

"It's good to have you back Babe."

We pulled into the Rangeman car park ten minutes later and I paused slightly in the act of pulling out my gym bag full on clothes. Ranger was still watching me, quietly happy, a smile forming on his lips.

"It's been a hard eight months." I sighed reminiscently. He nodded and quietly put an arm around my shoulders, guiding me on.

"Nowhere to go but forward now Babe."

0 0 0

A minute later we stepped into the lift and I watched Ranger press for the fifth floor instead of the seventh. I raised an eyebrow. He shrugged, a secretive smile playing across his lips.

"The boys want to say hello."

I didn't doubt who "the boys" were for a second. I saw something flicker in his eye for a second, then disappear behind his mask. It had looked like… amusement? Mentally my eyes narrowed, too experienced in hiding my emotion now to show it. Something was going on here. For Ranger to be smiling secretively it must be pretty big.

So what?

Then my brain clicked. They hadn't seen me in eight months. They knew I had been sick. They knew I was better. So maybe… Big party?

Nuh-duh?!

I grinned triumphantly to myself as the lift stopped and took a deep breath, preparing myself for the tidal wave of nose which was about to hit me. I couldn't wait to see them!

Then the lift doors opened.

And there was nobody there.

0 0 0

There wasn't a party after all. I guess they had forgotten about me in my extended absence. I tried not to show my disappointment too much on my face. Who had I been kidding? I couldn't expect a huge party after eight months of not seeing them. I was foolish to even hope that.

Ranger looked around at the few low ranking employees watching the monitors and doing the other usual jobs. Then he saw the quashed disappointment etched all over my face and pulled me into a gentle hug as I rapidly deflated, nursing my bruised ego.

"Babe I'm sorry. We have a big job going down, they probably got called out for help."

I paused for a second then nodded slightly, swallowing what felt like foolish tears. Ranger stroked my hair for a second then gently pulled away so he could look me in the eye.

"It's a hot day. I'm offline. Why don't we go do something?"

…ok? Hang on… A slow smile spread over my face, ohhh pay back time Ranger!

"Ok…" I said slowly, seemingly uncertain." How about … I don't know… Point Pleasant?"

I saw a slight smile flick up as soon as I mentioned it, quickly removed to form a pained face. He was faking! What was going on? Why would he be smiling at the thought of spending the day at the beach? He hated crowds; he hated the beach because he couldn't be secure or carry weapons in his budgie smugglers. Or board shorts, whichever he wore. Mentally my eyes narrowed again. Something was up. Ranger wanting me to choose Point Pleasant was definitely not normal. I contented myself with the continued act, while really puzzling over what was going on.

I gave a small smile and nodded, as if I had no idea what was going on. His eyes gave nothing away this time, his face merely showing grudging submission to my choice.

"Ready to leave in half an hour." He said. "And nothing that covers you up too much. I need huge reimbursements for going to the beach. It's bad for my image."

I gave him a flirtatious smile and walked back to the lift, hips swaying. I smirked to myself. I had changed in the last eight months, yes. But not that much?!


	16. Chapter 16

Slowly my mood mellowed as I pounded the familiar corridors to my fourth floor apartment, for once just accepting the way things were. Over the past few months I had had hours and days to peruse myself and various ideas, and I had come up with a new life philosophy for myself. If you've done something wrong, or something doesn't go that way you want and you can't change it; don't obsessively worry about it. There's nothing you can do and time can be spend doing much more productive things. It was harsh at times, but true. I couldn't expect the guys to still remember and care for me as much as they had, it had nearly been an entire year since I had seen most of them. But the hollow disappointment still caused my heart to jump in my chest as I stepped out of the lift onto the fourth floor. There was Tank's apartment where Tank, Lester, Bobby and I had spent many happy days, then Lester's, Bobby's, Hal, Cal, Woody, Binky, Luke, Gerry and Dave… and they stretched on down the corridor. It was so hard to walk past all the memories, the people who had forgotten me, the friendships that were lost. How could they have forgotten me so easily? When I was around them the jokes and the teasing and the friendship had seemed so genuine. But now as I walked down that hall I wondered. Was it really true? Had they ever really been my friends? A few weeks ago I would have said yes immediately. But now… now I wasn't so sure.

I leaned my head against the cool dark wood of my door and breathed a sigh of sadness. It was so hard to let go of the friends I thought I'd had for years of my life, to accept that what I thought was there was not. I pulled my keypad from my pocket and beeped it open. I heard the click of the lock and pulled it open, stuffing my keys back into my pocket before dumping my bag next to the door and rubbing my face in my hands. I would have to move out as soon as possible, it would be too painful to stay at Rangeman… But then I would have to leave Ranger. My eyes filled with tears I angrily swiped away. I couldn't be here. Not ever. I walked forward, running my hands through my hair and treading the familiar passage to my living room. I flopped down onto the couch, staring at the ceiling, unable to lift my spirits. I lay there for what could have been seconds or weeks, feeling as if life had abandoned me on the side of the road and left me in the dust. My head fell unseeingly to the side as I wallowed in my misery, facing the rest of the room. Silent tears trickled down my cheeks, the sobs quiet and distant in my chest, blurring my vision. Finally I wiped them away on my sleeve and opened my puffy eyes.

I half sat up, my mouth falling open. On the large coffee table next to me was a small box with a silver ribbon, and what looked like a large wine red photo album in a black cover. Who would leave these for me? All of the guys at Rangeman seemed to have forgotten me. I hadn't told my family about my months in hospital. Ranger? I wasn't sure. A note was propped on the top of the album, "Bombshell" printed on the front. With trembling fingers I slit it open and gently pulled out the slip of silver paper inside.

"Hey Bombshell,

We would never forget you, don't you ever doubt that ok? We love you just as much as we ever did, and you were never far from our thoughts – even on apprehensions. (Shh, don't tell Ranger!) Welcome back beautiful, we've missed you!

Ranger, Tank Bobby and Lester

And the Rest of the Merry Men"

As I flipped the note over I saw a hastily scribbled note on the back written in Lester's handwriting.

"PS: Everything was masterminded by your favourite Men in Tights Tank, Bobby and Lester. We love you Bomber!"

I just sat there and re-read the note four more times. Then a small smile twitched on my lips. I leant back on the couch, biting my lip. My hand clutched the note to my chest as if it was a lifeline in the dark place I was residing in, the reassurance that my adopted family still cared for me, still remembered me. Then the tears flowed down my faces as I choked back a sob, the emotion wracking my body so hard I forgot everything but it, my eyes screwed tight against the world and my shoulders hunched and shaking.

I cried and cried for what seemed like hours, relieving all the pain I had suffered in the past year, the freshly closed wounds torn open to bleed again. My mind was numb from the relief and shock coursing through me as I hugged myself and buried my face in the couch. The world spun away from me as I lost control of myself, my life; nothing existed except me and my pain. And I just let it go. I just let go.

Sometime my sobs died in my throat as I wiped my eyes for the last time, hugging myself to the warm couch beside me, nestling into it. I breathed in the smell of Bulgari. Couches don't smell of Bulgari? I tensed. There hadn't been anyone next to me before. Then a gentle hand stroked my hair out of my face and trailed a finger over the lingering tear on my cheek, softly wiping it away.

"I hope you never cry like that over me."

His voice was full of raw emotion, quietly husky. He was amazed someone could cry so wholly, so completely; to lose themselves in the pain and anguish, to forget the world as if it didn't exist. He pulled me closer, my head tucked under his chin. I just melted into him. I needed to be with him so badly, to find comfort in his steady reliability and care for me, to let him hold me until the fear just went away. I dreaded the time we would part so much I clung to him as hard as I could, squeezing my eyes tight against the new tidal wave of tears threatening to burst forth. I lost myself in him as we sat there, and time seemed to stop, leaving us to just pause and swallow what had happened. My illness, the realisation that I could no longer turn to my family for help, my feeling of betrayal and abandonment from my friends and consequent resolution, his anguish at being so powerless as he felt to help me through those months. His hand twisted a stray curl between his fingers, then gently tipped my chin up to look at him. His eyes were dark brown, as new fiery emotion playing in them, so strong it showed even through his mask. His features had softened in the half light of the apartment, his hand gently stroking my cheek as he stared deep into my eyes, seeing straight into my soul.

"We would _never_ abandon you Steph. Not ever. Don't you forget it."

The fire flickered in his eye again, his hand at the base of my neck.

Love.

It was Love.

0 0 0

Hey,

This wasn't exactly where I was planning to end it but it looks like it will be unless I get my act together and write another chapter tonight. Unlikely I must say. So this is where I'll leave you until late January next year – Please come back and read the rest – It will most probably be finished by then. Happy New Year and all the best for '08!

Schaefy :D


	17. Chapter 17

I was worried about her. About how this would affect her. Especially after what she'd just been through. I ran a hand through my hair and mentally cursed the guys and their stupid plan.

I quietly shut the door behind me and paused, listening for sound in her apartment. Nothing… then a small sob. My Babe was crying. I silently moved forward and looked around the end of the hall into the living room. Steph was sitting on the couch angrily brushing tears away, our note clutched in her hand.

I smiled sadly. That was my Babe. Tough as anything. Resilient as hell. She fiercely stemmed the flow of tears and leant back against the couch, biting her lip. My heart twisted as I watched her sit there. She looked so sad and vulnerable, her expression drawn and taught as if she was trying to control her emotions. Her hand with the note rose and gently pressed over her heart, her face twisting with the pain of her doubt and fear. Then her face cracked and she was sobbing uncontrollably into her hands, her whole body shuddering and shaking. In three quick strides I crossed the room and pulled her to my chest, encircling her in my arms. Her arms found my neck and she sobbed into my should so hard that I forgot everything but her and her pain. And how to make it go away.

I gently stroked her hair, running my thumb over her cheek feeling the wetness of her tears over it. It broke my heart to see her like that, so sad and vulnerable that she did not know I was with her. Not for the first time a protective feeling engulfed me as I held her, I realised I just wanted to take all the bad things away from her. To wipe away the tears and tell her it was ok. I felt my face contort for her pain as I held her, my careful mask cracked in a second.

Finally her tears stopped falling and her sobs reduced to small shuddering breaths. I breathed a sigh of relief and relaxed my tense muscles. I couldn't bear to see her in so much pain, and I hoped I would never have to again. I felt her body tense next to me as I held her. I guess she finally realised I was there. I gently stroked the hair out of her eyes and wiped a lone tear off her cheek, my eyes softening as they met hers.

She still amazed me. In the space of one short year she had grown and matured so much and felt so much more pain that I would have ever imagined. She had watched herself be destroyed and rebuilt again both physically and mentally, and she had managed to do so on her own for so long. I could not help her heal as much as I wished, it was down to her strong will and determination that she was better now. And now she had had the sense to just allow her body to let go and cry about the pain she was experiencing. To acknowledge that it was over. That she was better. As I watched her cry like that and hugged her trembling body to mine I could feel her pain aching in my chest as well, my mind completely nub from the sudden rush of emotion. I was so amazed after all Steph had been through she could feel still more hurt, more anguish, more pain. I could still feel her body trembling next to mine and I hugged her closer, trying to protect her from the world.

"I hope you never cry like that over me."

Her sobs intensified and she clung to me harder, her new tears soaking into my already drenched shirt. I just held her tight to me as her quaking breaths calmed again, twisting one of her wild beautiful curls between my fingers. I brushed it across her cheek before tipping her chin up so she could look at me. Her blue eyes sparkled with the tears that had fallen, deep pools of swirling emotion that had seen too much. I could feel my mask breaking already, as much as I fought to keep it there. She was the only person who could do that, who could get so far into my heart and mind that I would share things with her that most people would never know.

"We would _never_ abandon you Steph. Not ever. Don't you forget it."

I watched as her face relaxed, softening from the recent tears to gratefulness and… something I could quite grasp. A slight smile curved her mouth and she gently brushed her lips against mine, then leant back again to stare straight into my soul.

"Thankyou Ricardo."

A shiver went down my spine at the sound of my name, my mouth opening slightly in shock.

God help me I loved her.

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Author's Note:

Sorry this took so long, being the idiot that I am I lost the work as I was halfway through it (luckily I handwrite it first so it was the end of the world). Thanks to everyone both new and old for reading and reviewing – that's one of the best bits about writing! Thanks for waiting for the month and The rest of the story will probably be out in the next few days. And sorry this chapter was so short, I would have started the next chapter but its really long and its late and I figured I needed to do it justice. As it's the last chapter.

Please let me know what you think!

Schaefy

PS: Merry Christmas and Happy New Year!


	18. Chapter 18

Steph's POV

_Six months later_

I was walking on the beach, the soft sound of the waves washing against the shore as the first pink rays of the sun whispered over the horizon. The cool water washed gently over my feet and the sun rose higher in the azure sky, calmly lighting the world for another day.

I walked along the empty beach with the same unhurried patience, on gentle step after another. My mind as clear as the ocean next to me. I sat down at the waters edge, waiting for the world to bring another day, thinking about the past year or two.

After I had arrived back at Rangeman from my eight months in hospital and cried my heart out to Ranger, he had helped me open the small box on the table. Inside had lain a beautiful silver bracelet made of large silver circles entwined together, with a plate of silver on the top. Engraved on it in beautiful slanting writing was "Ricardo and Stephanie". I had just hugged Ranger for everything he had done, staying like that for what seemed like years. It wasn't until Ranger removed it from the box that I realised something was engraved on the underside as well. I gently turned it over in Ranger's hands and laughed when I read the inscription. It read "Don't forget the Merry Men!" Ranger looked as if he wished he could roll his eyes and sigh.

"Those three…"

I had just giggled and hugged him again, making a mental not to hug Tank, Bobby and Lester next time I saw hem. Ranger put the bracelet on my wrist and then turned to the album, gently pulling it from its black leather casing. It was a handsome deep red colour with "Steph" stamped on the colour in silver letters. I had been so shocked that it took me several moments to take it in. I turned the cover over to the title page to check I had seen it correctly. Here I recognised Lester's fancy writing swirling over the page in silver pen.

"Stephanie Plum: The Bombshell Bounty Hunter" was largest in the centre, with a note written underneath.

"With appearances from Batman and the Merry Men"

Inside the album was a memoir of my years of Bounty Hunting, including a photo and details of destruction for every car I had ever destroyed (First prize was awarded to the Turbo squashed by the garbage truck), details of every unfortunate happening when apprehending with photographic proof, a timeline of my life with explosions, deaths, important apprehensions and other various incidents marked on it (including the first dinner Ranger spent with my family, the acquisition of new vehicles and their prices and the pools which were being held about me), and a detailed account of the Top Five most talked about apprehensions. There were pictures of me arguing with my mother (probably about my job seeing as a flak vest was poking out from under my sweatshirt and my gun stuck in the waistband of my jeans), Grandma Mazur when she shot the chicken with my gun, My father wen he had been stunned by grandma and my mother in a dead faint with me standing next to her with a large bandage around my arm. And in the last section (titled "Ranger and his Men in Tights) were pictures of me laughing with the boys, talking to Ranger, asleep on monitor duty, stunning Hal with his own stun gun and watching a movie, Ranger's arm around me, leaning against Lester with Tank comatose across my legs.

Ranger and I had laughed and reminisced, remembering and telling stories from the times both together and apart. I was still chuckling when I gently turned over the last page. I drew breath when I saw it, tears filling my eyes as I looked up at Ranger, speechless. A photo of Tank, Bobby, Lester, Ranger and I was stuck in the middle of the black page; all of us smiling and laughing at the camera.

"We thought you might need a reminder of the good things in your life. Live life to your own rhythm instead of someone else and you will feel some of the happiness around you. Only when we are no longer afraid do we begin to live. Trust us Bombshell your life is awesome! We will always love you no matter what, just look to the bracelet for a reminder. You are always welcome here.

Don't forget us Bomber,

Ranger, Tank, Lester and Bobby

And The Rest of the Merry Men."

Below was a photo of Ranger and I in a quiet restaurant somewhere, our foreheads leaning against each other, eyes closed. Both of us had soft smiles on our faces, as if in utter bliss. Below was written "We will love you forever Bombshell. Ranger too, in more ways than one."

I remember slight shock register on Rangers face (A feat in its own right) then he looked at me, and pulled me into a kiss so sensual I felt my body float away through the winds of our passion.

I love that album dearly and still keep it in the house, flicking through it occasionally – remembering past years. A while after that we left for Point Pleasant and I was shocked to find the entirety of Rangeman on the beach partying, a banner above the stage reading "Welcome back Bombshell!" They all welcomed me back with cheers and hugs and we spent a happy day dancing, swimming, playing volleyball and singing karaoke on the stage. Tank and Ranger were quiet entertaining at that part I can tell you!

Over the following weeks and months I had stayed at Rangeman, slternating between the seventh floor and the fourth; recuperating my strength and getting trained by Tank, Lester and Bobby in many of the Bounty Hunter skills. I learned hand to hand combat, weapons combat, how to properly use my gun, breaking and entering, lock picking and theory on how to handle different situations. After six weeks I began taking on shifts in the Comm(unications) Room and occasionally on stake outs or surveillance. Ranger had advised me not to go straight back into apprehensions yet while I was training and healing, just to take on some light work if I wanted.

I had only relapsed with depression once which the boys had immediately helped me deal with, and I was now more confident and sure of myself than ever. I had finally visited my parents a month after I had been released from hospital, so I wouldn't look obviously anorexic. At least that's what I told myself. A small cynical but truthful voice in my head said I was just chicken; and the longer I waited the worse it would be. It had been nine months since I had seen the, and I knew my mother would probably be frantic with worry. So one autumn Saturday Ranger drove me down to my parent's house and held my hand as I knocked on the door. It opened a second later to my mother, red-faced, clutching what looked like a smoking iron in her hand.

"Poo Ellen, that stinks! Did you blow another iron again? That's the fifth this week!"

When stressing, some people take happy pills, others hit the bottle, my mother irons. Her drug of choice. It must have been serious, even the funeral parlour hadn't caused an iron to actually _blow_. I cringed inwardly. It was going to be a long afternoon. Ranger held my hand throughout the whole interrogation, only letting go to gently remove the hot iron from my mothers vice like fingers as she sobbed and hugged me so tight I started feeling light headed. And when Grandma tried to grab a cheap feel. Guns may or may not have been holstered on that occasion.

My mother proceeded to try and leech information from me about my supposed "Overseas Job". Ranger and I had agreed beforehand to say it was secret – saving the myriad of lies we would have to tell to sustain our story. Needless to say, neither my mother nor Grandmother took that well.

After an hour or so Ranger could see me getting tired and fed up and received an oh-so-convenient phone call requesting our presence at a meeting. After another fifteen minuted of questions and nagging we reached the turbo, laiden with food to "fill your cupboards that have been empty for nine months". Well I wasn't complaining.

So more months past and I got steadily better, healthier and happier than I had ever been before, I began to work part time in Rangeman as an employee, doing shifts on the control and Comm rooms, helping out with takedowns, and so on. I went back to my job with Vinnie who by now was bleeding money with Lula as his only Bounty Hunter. When I began pulling in FTA's again I was surprised, I was much more skilled and confident before (The private lessons with Ranger on lock picking had definitely made a difference in more ways than one) and skips who had heard about my new reputation were more cooperative and frightened of me. I began bringing in higher bonds very successfully and I was approached by several bounty hunting organisations to give speeches about my life and work, and lessons to the members. I was flattered and surprised but declined all. It wasn't my type of thing; and besides the skills I knew were Rangeman secrets – For their eyes only. It was when the book and TV offers started arriving in the mail that I decided. I need a vacation.

My newly shorn curls danced around my ears as I sat on the shore ad the tide rise, gently inching toward my toes, burrowed under the wet sand. I felt the breath on my neck before I heard him, then a soft kiss below my hairline. His arms encircled me from behind, pulling me back between his legs to rest on his chest. I settled there quietly and he gently stroked the curls from my face, his fingertips trailing lightly over the skin. We sat there in comfortable silence for a while, the new sunlight dancing on the water, clouds fading from pink to orange.

We had sat there for a good hour when he broke the silence, his voice whispering gently over the hissing of the sea.

"I said it once to you, the lonely morning you returned. I'll say it again. Don't ever leave me Steph. I need you like no one else, I need…"

He struggled for words, staring out over the clear blue water to the horizon. After a moment he said quietly.

"I need your kindness and compassion, your strength and determination to get through the bad times. I need the way you light up a room as if there were only darkness and you were the sun, the way you make a bad day seem a hundred times better. I need the way you get so far into me and make me reveal things I have told no one. I need they way you need me,- I need… I need your love."

His head rested on mine as he let got of a tense breath, all the longing in the world held in that single heartfelt sigh.

"Marry me?"

THE END

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Hi Everyone,

Ommigod it's finished?! I have to say this is the craziest, longest and deepest story I've ever written. You wouldn't recognize it at all from the plan I wrote out – It's gotten so sidetracked from Day One that it's just unbelievable. I guess that's what makes it (to me at least) so great. Originally the plan was that Ranger would give her a gift each day for a week and then tell her he loved her and they would live happily ever after. But it's turned into so much more than that. I would just like to say now that every single event that isn't mentioned in that sentence was added while writing the story and not planned at all. For me, that's a big thing – I tend to have planned out all my stories and stick to it pretty rigidly, and pretty much everything in this story was an on the spot addition. But I loved every minute of it. Thanks to all the guys who have constantly reviewed and advised me about The Superhero's Redemption – Vicki Acklin, Stephannie1014, She'sGotHighHopes, Lady Warrior, parisnight and bandbfan – You guys are all totally awesome and I really appreciate all your comments and advice, I know I could never do it without you! So here ends the Superhero's Redemption and it's legacy – for more stuff about it check out my blog at http://Schaefy. which has more info on my original story ideas and me and my life! ThankyouThankyouThankyou for everyone who read and reviewed, I love you all! Please still review the last chapter and tell me what you think of the story as a whole! (And the end!)

Thanks and see you next time! (Soon – I've written another story and started the one after so looking forward to hearing what you think!)

See ya!

Schaefy


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